We moved in tight formation, the muddy path sucking at our sandals as the caravan rattled along the old forest trail. Father's words echoed in my head — "Always check your weapons twice. Carry antidotes for poison. Trust no one fully."
I kept glancing at the merchant. He was sweating rivers, his eyes darting like he expected death to leap from every tree.
He wasn't wrong.
⸻
The ambush struck at twilight. First came a sharp whistle, then steel. Kunai rained from the treetops. Shadows flickered through the branches — masked figures lunged at us in a blur of metal and chakra.
Clang—
My kunai met theirs with a harsh spark. Instinct roared awake. I ducked under a slash, spun, and struck back — sparks danced in the dusk.
Twenty-five of them. Not bandits — trained shinobi. This was no D-rank.
⸻
"Taro, behind you—!" I yelled.
Too late. A masked ninja burst from the brush, blade flashing in the dim light. A wet slice — a scream.
Taro's arm hit the dirt with a sickening thud.
"AAAHHH!" he screamed, collapsing to his knees, clutching the bleeding stump. Blood pulsed through his trembling fingers.
Kenji froze mid-step, staring at the severed limb — eyes wide, breath gone. Like his mind cracked right there.
"Kenji! Snap out of it!" I grabbed his vest, shaking him hard. His eyes flicked to me, but empty. Hollow.
⸻
Steel rang out again. Jiro-sensei carved through two attackers in a heartbeat, blades spinning like silver wind. But more kept coming, flickering between wagons and trees.
"Stay behind me!" he barked, parrying three blades at once.
Another enemy slipped past him — a shadow gliding for Kenji and the dying Taro.
I lunged forward — chakra flaring — flung a volley of shuriken to force him back, but another enemy burst out from the shadows behind. His kunai swung down for Kenji's throat—
I tackled Kenji sideways. Pain exploded across my ribs — warm blood spread under my armor, but I forced myself up.
"Stay awake, Kenji! Move or we're dead!"
⸻
A roar of water chakra twisted through the clearing — a massive Water Fang Bullet spiraling at us like liquid teeth. My hands blurred through the signs.
Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!
A sphere of flame slammed into the water — steam hissed around us, masking shapes in the smoke.
⸻
Jiro's blades flickered like lightning, but even he couldn't guard all sides. We were surrounded — masked shinobi closing in like wolves. Taro lay pale and fading, his lifeblood soaking the roots. Kenji crouched over him, paralyzed.
Behind us, the merchant squealed and scrambled under a wagon, clutching his chest of coins like it was worth more than our lives.
Jiro's voice cracked through the clash. "GO! Get them out — I'll hold—"
He didn't finish. A masked shinobi leapt onto a wagon roof, swinging a massive scroll that ignited into a blazing tag — Crimson Serpent Detonation. A forbidden jutsu I'd only read about. Enough to vaporize this whole clearing.
Jiro spun, cutting down two more, but the tag glowed hell-red.
No. Not again. Not like this.
My Sharingan spun — the three tomoe swirling so fast they blurred together. Pain speared behind my eyelids — a thousand needles in my skull.
And then it cracked open — like iron chains snapping in my mind.
⸻
The tomoe fractured — reshaped — and reformed.
A black star with six razor-sharp points bloomed in my vision. Violet vortex lines of violet chakra danced at each arm of the star, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Chrono Lock.
⸻
Time froze.
The explosion stopped mid-flare — a burning blossom frozen in the dusk. Shrapnel hovered inches from my face, locked in glassy stasis.
I heard my heartbeat — slow, thunderous. Steady.
I moved — grabbed Kenji by the collar, dragged him behind the wagon. Dropped to Taro's side — slammed my palm on the stump — forced my chakra to slow the bleeding, seal the vessels. Anything to buy him seconds.
Pain roared through my ribs, but I kept moving.
Seventeen seconds. Eighteen.
I spun through the frozen fight — kunai hung like a metal forest. I yanked Jiro two steps aside so a blade passed harmlessly by his throat.
Nineteen. Twenty.
Time slammed back.
⸻
The Crimson Serpent Detonation detonated into bare dirt instead of flesh. Fire ripped skyward — heat slapped my face, but didn't turn me to ash.
The masked shinobi turned, eyes wide. What did he use?
Too late.
⸻
My left eye throbbed — a new fire burning in my veins.
Graviton Vortex.
I slammed my palm to the ground. Chakra howled through the clearing — the air warped inward with a deep, bone-cracking hum.
The forest floor shuddered — dirt, leaves, blades, and enemies sucked toward the spiraling core. Screams tore through the dusk as twenty-five shinobi were dragged in — bones snapped like twigs, metal shrieked.
Silence fell.
⸻
Only Jiro, Kenji, and half-conscious Taro remained. The merchant peeked out from under the wagon, eyes huge with terror.
Jiro wiped blood from his cheek, staring at me. "…Izuna… what… did you just do?"
I could barely stand. My ribs screamed. My eyes burned like hot coals. But that black star spun in my vision, calm and cold — six sharp arms of darkness with violet vortex lines humming at the edges.
I wiped the blood dripping from my chin and exhaled.
Time. Gravity. Mine.
⸻
Never again.
Never again will I stand by and watch my people die.
Then I fell to the ground, and everything went black.